


Off the Wagon

by Join_the_Masquerade



Category: Green Day
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 17:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17268392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Join_the_Masquerade/pseuds/Join_the_Masquerade
Summary: Billie Joe falls off the wagon again.





	Off the Wagon

"It was only one beer, Adrienne! Fuck!"

My words were repeating in my head as I drove with nowhere particular in mind. I hated arguing with her, especially when I knew she was right. I knew I was losing my fight with alcohol again... It hadn't been just the one beer. I was somewhat thankful she'd only found the one bottle I’d missed under the couch in the basement where I’d last been drinking, and playing guitar, and drinking some more... I couldn’t say what the trigger had been to end my year long stretch of sobriety but damn, had it felt good at the time.

Now, with tears streaming down my face as I made my way down the highway, things weren’t feeling so good. And on top of it all, the only thing I could think about was how much I wanted a drink to make everything go away.

Just one more couldn’t hurt. I was already this far in.

I pulled over to the side of the road, ignoring the screams of protest as I cut someone off. I wanted to give in. I wanted another drink so bad I could already taste it on my tongue, swollen with greed.

Pull yourself together, man.

“Hey mister!” I almost wet myself as someone tapped on my window. I dried my eyes and rolled down the window for the young woman on the other side, who had been attempting to peer in through the tinted windows. “Where you headed? Are you in a hurry?”

“Nowhere in particular…” It had been a while since I’d hitched a ride; I didn’t think people did that anymore, what with all the movies depicting your average driver as a sure-to-be serial killer.

“I need a lift to happy hour.”

Oh no.

I looked the young woman up and down a few times before deciding that if she were to go mental on me, I’d be able to take her down. Sure, I was a little small, but so was she. I cleared everything off the passenger side seat and motioned for her to get in the car.

“Thanks. I'm Gina.”

“Billie.”

Gina directed me to a little out of the way bar about a 10 minute drive from where I’d picked her up. Things were silent in the car, which was better than forcing awkward conversation, but she seemed friendly enough.

I parked the car in the lot and Gina stepped out, walking around to lean her arms on my open window.

“I think I owe you a drink.” Although she was smiling, I could tell she was just as miserable as I was. Hell, most people here would be. I needed to get home and smooth things over with Adrienne. I needed to find some sleep, and sort my head out in the morning.

“C’mon, just one drink?”

The night air was cold against my arms as I walked across the lot, pulling my jacket on as I went. Gina was several steps ahead of me. By the time I’d got to the bar, she’d already bought me a beer.

“I’ll see ya around, Billie.” With a wink she was off, a wiggle in her walk as she made her way to a free table in the corner of the room. I wouldn’t join her.

Besides, I was only having one beer.

Just one.  
Every so often I’d see – God, I couldn’t remember her name – walk back up to the bar to order another drink. I stayed put on my stool. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if I could still stand by this point as a rough count of the beers I could remember drinking had me getting my other hand out of my pocket to finish.

I felt a vibration as I shoved my hand back inside my pocket, bringing my phone out to find I had 8 missed calls and 15 messages. Shit. I played the last voicemail, my eyes tearing up as I could hear the ones in hers.

“Billie, please be okay. Where are you? Call me.”

I stumbled out the bar and onto the curb, sitting where I’d fallen and calling Adrienne.

“Are you okay?” She was still crying. Hearing her so upset was enough to make my drunk ass start bawling as I tried to explain to her exactly where I was without really knowing. Lucky there were a few street signs in sight.

I stayed there on the curb and waited. I was sure she knew the mess I was in. I was too tired to fight her again. Far too tired.

I watched as a taxi pulled up and Adrienne stepped out, her arms enveloping me into a tight embrace as soon as she reached me.

“There was a car accident. I thought it might have been you…” I shook my head, tears streaming again, ashamed at myself for how worried I’d made her.

“I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Are you?” She took a step back to look me in the eyes. I looked away.

Adrienne drove us home once the tears had settled, and she realised she wasn’t getting any truth out of me tonight. We sat on our sides of the bed, pretending to fuss about with the pillows and straighten out the blankets as we thought of ways to approach the situation. I didn’t want to talk about it. Not really. Not just yet.

“It’s never easy to kick an addiction, Billie. I just wish you’d talk to me. Let me in. Instead of falling off the wagon again.”


End file.
